Harry Potter - Gender Swap
by Chewy Nemesis
Summary: Exploration of a theme. A first-person look at gender changing. Harry wakes up in the Hospital Wing...


**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Aaargh... What happened?

I don't remember a damn thing... I was... somewhere in the castle... I think I was coming back from the Quidditch Pitch... and then...

Nope, nothing.

Damn my head hurts, I open my eyes a crack... _shit!_ Damn that light's bright. Alright, let's sit up-

Nope, that makes me nauseous. Bloody hell...

Someone's chair creaks, like they're trying to sit quietly but it's _really_ awkward. I should know, I did that all the time back when Hermione was petrified in second year... Or that time at St Mungo's when we ran out of conversation next to Mr Weasley's bed... Or when we were made to sit next to Gilderoy Lockhart (brainless git) to make sure he didn't wander off while his Healer finished her errands.

Yes, my name is Harry Potter, and I've been making trouble in hospitals for more than five years now.

So... "Ten sickles says I'm in the Hospital Wing." I manage to croak. My voice sounds strange, but that's usually because I haven't used it in a while, or they've been feeding me potions while they were out. At least I don't have a horrible after taste fouling up my mouth, sometimes I swear Madam Pomfrey likes to watch me suffer when waking up... There was that time I _did_ actually hurl.

Hehe. Bad memory actually, that potion was nasty and on a timer, I had to take it again as soon as she washed my mouth out.

"Sucker bet, mate. 'Sides, you're the one with your eyes closed." Good ol' Ron. If he's here, then nothing happened to my broom. One time I flew through the castle all the way up to the Fat Lady to save time after a late night practice, but she wouldn't let me through until Professor Mcgonagall showed up. Last time I tried that...

"You know, for once I feel... not fine? Waking up? Does anyone here know why?"

There's a pause that turns _really_ awkward before Hermione pipes up "Um, Harry, you shouldn't really worry about that yet. I mean, the symptoms _are_ present if you must know, but Professor Dumbledore is investigating the cause of your... um... predicament. It may be better to-"

Forget feeling weird, I'm in the Hospital Wing, and I'm not in the mood. I sit up and open my eyes to glare in Hermione's general direction. I'm not wearing my glasses, but I send my unimpressed look towards the fuzzy brown patch in my vision.

I fumble around for my glasses and sit up properly. My body still feels weird, but I'm putting it down to the hospital gown and potions – again.

"Right," My vision's clear again, always a relief. "What happened _this_ time." Hermione's nervously chewing on her lip off the left of my bed, looking like she simultaneously wants to blurt something out and really not wanting to be the person tasked with informing me. Ron's not looking in my direction at all, but he's bright red. He actually looks like he's going to burst into hysterical laughter but is too mortified to start.

Lovely friends I have.

I just stare at them blankly for a bit, until Ron mutters "Bloody hell mate, look- look down, alright?"

Looking down I see... my hospital gown. Again. Bloody nutter.

"Look, Ron, mate, what the bloody hell are you talking about?" Ron looks like he's ready to pop when he chickens out of telling me be sending a 'help' look to Hermione. Looks like whatever this is is strange, I mean, even Madam Pomfrey ducked out to let them tell me. Or at least, that's what I assume since the curtains are pulled around the bed.

Hermione actually looks like she's sweating, before she bites the bullet and hands over her hand mirror. She's blushing lightly now too, muttering "Dense boys."

I still don't understand what's going on, and a look in the mirror shows that I'm still me. And-

Wait. There's a girl in the mirror.

Huh.

Green eyes, check. Lightning scar, check. Messy black hair, check. Although there seems to be more of it that I remember, how could I miss that amount of hair pouring down to my shoulders?

Holding the mirror in my left hand, I poke at my cheek. The girl pokes her cheek, although her hands don't seem all that dainty. I roll my eyes- this is stupid, and she looks just as unimpressed. To make sure, as a final test, I stick my finger up my nose, and so does she. Grinning widely, I hold up a booger before shouting "Yes!". Girls do have boogers.

It occurs to me that my friends are still here. Hermione looks appropriately disgusted, and I wave at her, while Ron descends into fits of laughter. I flick my booger at him, which shuts him up.

"So, is there anything actually wrong with me? Or is this it?" Hermione quickly looks grave again.

"Harry, are you sure you're okay? I mean, this is a very traumatic experience and-"

"Hermione, the only trauma going on here is that I'm still in the Hospital Wing, when I'm physically fine-"

"Harry, you're physically a girl!" Hermione cuts across my interruption, quite rude of her, and I almost flick her a 'Really?' and start looking down my top. No, I'm better than that, and she does look quite frazzled. Ron's just content to watch, but that's fine. He wouldn't touch emotional trauma with a ten-foot pole. I'll ask him for a game of chess once we get out of here.

I lean forward and take Hermione's hands in my own. "Hermione, it's all right. Either Mouldyshorts cocked up big time, or Malfoy's more desperate than we thought-"

"Don't joke about that Harry!"

"-And we'll humiliate him soon enough anyway. The Quidditch season starts soon."

"Harry, I don't really think-"

"Hermione, with all due respect, we're sixteen. I've faced Voldemort, all three Unforgivables at his hand, everyone in the school hating me at one point or another, various Quidditch related accidents and an explosive break-up with Cho Chang. I've sort of been expecting death 'round every corner, and instead I get a-" Double check the mirror, "pretty girl our age that I literally can't get rid of. It'll be alright."

Hermione doesn't look ready to jump into my arms at this point, but she does look a great deal more amused. Pity, she knows me too well. "Alright Harry, you're fine, although we need to get you clothes and some advice on girls' bodies." She gives me a quick hug- yes, I have boobs and yes, they are awesome- before standing up.

"Madam Pomfrey said you could go whenever you were ready, you aren't sick or anything."

"Although mate, we weren't really expecting you to get over it this quickly. It would have been hilarious if you fainted a couple of times first." Ron hands me my Invisibility Cloak, and he seems to have gotten over himself quite well. I wrap it around my body before grabbing my wand and standing up with them, damn these hospital gowns and invisibility cloaks with their general lack of pockets.

"Alright guys, anything else before we go?" It's weird, I do admit that, and it will definitely take some getting used to.

"Just where we're going, mate. -Are you sure you're all right?" Ron blurted out the last part when Hermione glared at him across the bed, I'm standing on Hermione's side, of course.

"As well as can be, after having my sexual orientation changed like that." I smirk at their confused faces. "I was straight before, and now I'm gay." I nearly keep a straight face as that sinks in, although Hermione's just looking exasperated now. "C'mon, I'm headed up to the Room of Requirement. I need a _fun_ shower, and hopefully some clothes that fit. Race you there!" I quickly give Hermione a peck on the cheek, then race off before she can react, covering my head in the Cloak as I leave.

Standing at the entrance of the Hospital Wing, I see Hermione scowl and pick up her book bag, ready to find and lecture me. Ron stumbles out of her warpath, trying hopelessly to hide his laughter while keeping up with her. I quickly flee, since I want some alone time on the fifth floor, and I can't help but smile.

I'm Harry Potter, female, and nothing's really changed.


End file.
